*New Story Series* Hear Me Out-Part 1

You can always choose to catch more flies using honey than vinegar, but that’s the catch: it is a choice!   I suppose I’m not at all alone in feeling like my life isn’t interesting enough to make a story out of, but then again, you would have to question why I am writing this to begin with.  I’m Izzy, short for Isadora, and I live in a place that I’ve come to see as magical.  Although, my view of this city had to earn what it’s worth as it used to have an ant-sized reputation in my mind.  Setting the scene, I’m fourteen; afraid to love, a friend of being.

School has never been my strong point, but I’ve rarely made anything other than A’s.  School, oh why even bother to mention that thing?  I was just about to start high school at Joenby High, the newly-renovated and only high school in town, situated only about two blocks from my place.  Even worse, I was coerced into being placed into the school’s “higher end” program, the Prestige, by my mother and father, both of whom were wooed into doing so during a parent-teacher conference with my patronizing science teacher, Mrs. Tora, from last year:

“Little Miss [four foot ten] Isadora!  She’s SUCH a peach! [I never say anything!]  She has never received anything less than ONE hundred percent! [All I do is complete every assignment, woman.  Like I’m supposed to?]  I would LOVE for Isadora to attend the Prestige; her future is science! [Bleh…]”

Attending Joenby seemed like a real nightmare as I could practically see it from my bedroom window.  I had been living in Smithfield, Virginia for three years at that point, but still never managed to get a feel for the people there.  Interestingly enough, if you knew anything about this town you’d realize that it managed to be a very charming, diverse, and thriving community despite the fact that it barely has eight thousand residents; a small town that is very accommodating to foot traffic, at that.  Luckily, the city’s easy accessibility (and safe reputation) allowed for me to be able to slip out of my house without a moment’s notice, drift around town for a few, and be back in my room before anyone knew I had ever left.

“Little Isadora.  Izzy.  There is a plate of food on your mat.  Be sure to nourish your cells before our session.”

I know what you may be thinking:  no exclamation points; cells?  Well, my parents are anything but typical.  Both being strict followers of the Buddhist faith, they seldom raise their voices over anything.  Elders (including teachers) come first and obedience is held in the highest respect in this faith.  I suppose this actually explains why my grades are high enough to make it into the Prestige, ye olde Tiger parents!

I managed to stuff my moderately chubby self into workout clothing and scurried down as fast as I could to my yoga mat and chowed down, situated between my parent’s mats.  Our living room had no chairs or couches whatsoever, so we had space to stretch for days.  It was like clockwork that I would perform this every weekday.  I had always wondered why my parents made me do yoga alongside them as it clearly wasn’t working on my body, mind, OR soul, but seeing as I was the child and they, the parents, I knew to keep my mouth shut.  Our session was done and I bowed to my parents, ran up to my room, changed into my pajamas and hopped into bed.  Tomorrow was day one of the rest of my life.  High school, I mean.

 

 

 

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Been A Long Time

SEAUXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX……………

it has certainly been a while since I’ve posted, but fear not for I am due to come back.

In the near future, I see myself composing a story unlike anything I’ve ever created before; a marriage between two worlds.  I guess it’s safe to say…..stay tuned?

Figured Out

Tracy Chapman + Michael Jackson = The Weeknd

I guess we all boast influences from one source or the next, but I’ve (lately) never come to realize one so specifically precise as this………….and I liiiiiik…uh………..loooooooooove it. And I love it.

Truth is, I don’t think life has to be figured out, but exploration simply feels necessary in order to keep us all afloat. Would you rather pray for the turbulent winds to brush your raft along, or would you rather sail in silence for fear of movement? Would you loooove it?

Almost Halloween

As per the previous post, I’m really getting into the spirit of Autumn right about now.  Jazz club affair.  Not too dark, not too bright, but just right.  Halloween seems to be the “holiday” that embodies that feeling like no other ‘cuz folks legitmately want to be spooked, and yet, wanna see the smiling faces of the babies who trot around from house to house, decked out in the latest in Tigger n’ Pooh costume wear.  “Tick or tweeeeeeeeeeeeeet”

Now/Then

“I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellow‐slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Anything, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate.”

-Mr. Frederick Douglass

…starting to echo some of his sentiments, as of late.